Scars
by TheNobodyofaSOLDIER
Summary: [Leon x Injured!Reader]


You reeled your hand back as it made contact with the sizzling pan. A horrid sensation seeped into the tender skin, first sharp, then hot mixed oddly with a freezing pain. Swallowing hard, you clutched the heel of your hand, biting your lip and observing the damage; nothing much more than a pink mark distorting your palm. What did it matter?

After all, it was just another scar.

It had been a week now since you first abandoned your two month stay at the hospital. Oh, how good it felt to be in the warmth of your apartment rather than that freezing room, to escape those awful beeps and whirrings from the machines you were attached to. But, you never predicted the level of difficulty getting back into your normal routine.

How could you after what you suffered through?

You used to think a promotion as a policewoman for the Raccoon City Police Department was the greattest opportunity for you, the best thing that could possibly happen to you. Working alongside your boyfriend of one month, Leon Scott Kennedy, was the icing on the cake. But, who could have predicated the madness that took place the fall of 1998? Who knew of the horror germinating behind the walls of Umbrella? How could someone mentally prepare for terrors only located in fiction brutally invading the land of reality?

You never couldn't imagine it. Nights still riddled with nightmares of the city, contaminted with the walking dead, their bone chilling moans, the strench of rotting flesh peeling away from their bones, screams of the victims falling prey to these monsters.

You didn't doubt your abilities as a fighter, your skills at hand to hand combat and firearms, as a soldier of justice. You knew how to think and move when criminals lashed out. Though you tried your best to escape the infected city unscathed, the damage inflicted on your body inflamed your broken nerves to this day.

As you tended to the wound, a smoky aroma filled your nostrils. Slowly, but surely, it escalated to a burning stench. Your heart nearly jumped through your ribs when you bolted back to the stove, practically shoving the pan off. But, it was too late. Much to your dismay, the meat had been charred black, dry, wrinkled, unedible.

And Leon, your boyfriend would be home any minute...

With a desperate wail, you sunk into the chair of the dining table. Your throat painfully constricted, and your eyes burned with salty droplets. Three months today, you and Leon started a relationship, and in the short amount of time, you both went through hell and back again...then through hell once more. But, he wasn't just your boyfriend. No, he was your hero, your savior both in the battlefield of the undead to the torture you endured in the hospital. Though you guessed he would leave you there with nothing left to fight for, he knelt at your side, tightening his grip around your hand, determined to take you out of that bed.

You owed him your life. You owned him your once wavering sanity. You owed him what was left of your crumpled body - and you couldn't even cook him one damn meal.

The front door clicked, and footsteps resounded in the little apartment. Widening your eyes, you scrambled to the counter, trying to clear it of every bit of evidence in regards to you failure. But, the place was so small. Before he could even call your name, announcing his arrival, Leon happened upon you, caught you in the act.

One hand in his jacket pocket, the other carrying a back of plastic sacks, he raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing the scene. You felt like a naughty child, discovered stealing cookies.

"What is this, [Name]?" he stated rather than asked. The ingeous scent hung so prominently, it was obvious what you had been doing.

Sucking in your bottom lip, you lowered your head and covered the singed flesh at the top of your hand.

"W-Well," your voice broke, forcing you to swallow. "I've been back on my feet over a week now, and today marks three months for us," you mentally slapped yourself but showed it with a light tug at your hair. "I know it seems stupid, but with everything we've been through, I thought we needed to celebrate in some way..."

You heard the rustling of the sacks as they were placed on the table and the thud of his boots draw nearer. Suddenly, you felt his warm pressence encircle you, his musky but clean scent. He immediately snatched the hand you concealed. With a light gasp, you opened your mouth to protest but he observed it carefully, occasionally flipping it over. His face remained blank. Your insides twisted with nerves.

Then, his light eyes softened around his coffee colored locks, and a low laugh reverberated in his chest. "You moron," again, triggering a yelp from you, he snatched you by the waist, pressing up against you. "All that shit just for me?"

It didn't matter how often he touched, kissed or held you-it took your breath away and nearly stopped your heart every time.

"Well, yeah," you said, lowering your heated face.

Taking your chin in his hand, he brought your dry lips close for a chaste, gentle kiss. No, it wasn't the most passionate or romantic, but it was enough for you. It still shot a chill up your spine. Each time he brushed his lips over a scar on your face, the sensation repeated, intensifying at each touch. Tracing butterfly kisses down your neck, you rested your head against his shoulder, savoring every tiny detail; the tickling of his hair folicles, each hitched breath warming the marred skin, the careful control he held to better express these terms of affection. You would always find a safe haven here with him. He would always be here to hold you and heal your scars.

Still holding you close, Leon whispered against the shell of your ear,

"So, I'm guessing you didn't have some sort of back-up plan for dinner?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, of course not."

He suddenly flicked the back of your head, snickering. "Moron."

"H-hey-!"

"You never were the best cook," he gestured to the bag. "So, I got Chinese food from your favorite joint."

You made a pull for the edible treasure awaiting you. "What-!?"

Preventing you to escape, Leon's grasp around you tightened. "Hey, hey, now, just a second," he rested a cheek atop your head. "I'm likin' this."

Your heart refused to cease its fluttering. With a quiet sigh, you returned to your snug place in his arms, fitting together perfectly.

"Alright," you said. "Just let me know when you get tired of this."

As you expected, he laughed in reply as did you. He told you a million and one times what he thought about keeping you close like this.

He'd never tire of it.


End file.
